It was an uneven way, and he stumbled many times. But he did not mind—his one thought was to reach his son and find out the boy’s condition.
Towser ran ahead, howling dismally at every few yards. But the faithful dog did not lose the scent.
Presently, through the bushes, Farmer Upton caught sight of a distant camp fire.
“Hist!” he called to Towser. “Go slow, now! Down!”
A hundred yards more were passed, when a loud cry rent the air.
It was Jerry’s voice. Si Peters was in the act of applying the first brushful of tar to his back. Utterly helpless, there was nothing left for Jerry to do but to use his lungs.
“Shut up!” cried Si Peters. “Yell again and I’ll hit you in the mouth with the tar.”
“You are an overgrown coward!” retorted Jerry. “Give me a fair show, and I’ll knock you out in short order.”
In a rage, Si Peters started to plaster Jerry’s mouth with the hot tar. But ere the brush could descend, Mr. Upton and Towser burst upon the scene.
“Stop, you young scamps!” roared the old farmer. “At ’em, Towser! Chew ’em up!”
Startled at the unexpected interruption, the rowdies fell back. Then Towser leaped forward and caught Si Peters by his trowsers.
“Save me!” yelled Si, in terror. “The dog is going to chew me up!”
“Good, Towser!” returned Jerry. “Hold him fast!”
In the meantime Mr. Upton ran after the boys who had been holding Jerry. He caught two of them, and before they knew it, knocked their heads together so forcibly that they saw stars.
Jerry, delighted at the unexpected turn of affairs, turned upon Wash Crosby. Si Peters had dropped the tar brush, and this Jerry secured.
Bang! whack! Crosby received a blow over the head, and one in the ear, which left a big black streak of tar.
“Oh, don’t! please don’t!” he screamed. “Let up, Jerry! It was only a joke! We weren’t really going to tar and feather you!”
During this time Si Peters was trying his best to get away from Towser, who held on with a deathlike grip.
Around and around the camp fire the two circled, until Jerry came up.
The youth called off the dog and went at Si in about the same manner as he had treated Wash Crosby.
Si wanted to run for it, and in his hurry rushed through the fire, knocking over the kettle of tar.
The sticky mess emptied itself over his clothing. Then the young oarsman tripped him up, and over he rolled among the loose feathers.